


Cellophane

by stolemyoverture



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Draco Malfoy Redemption, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Pining Draco Malfoy, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29941506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stolemyoverture/pseuds/stolemyoverture
Summary: Based off the song Cellophane by FKA Twigs. Highly recommend listening to it before/while reading!A very angsty one shot. Draco deals with his troubled relationship with Hermione. Eighth year story.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Cellophane

_ They want to see us alone _

Draco closes the Gryffindor common room door quietly, taking one last quick look at her sleeping peacefully in front of the fireplace. When he turns to face the corridor, some 5th year boy is there watching him. The boy says nothing, but the look of repulsion and fear on his face tells everything. Draco gives him a small nod of acknowledgement before slipping quietly into the darkness of the castle, where he will spend the rest of the night prowling the halls like a ghost, lost within his own thoughts. Night time is the only time he has completely to himself-away from the glares, away from the whispers behind his back. 

It’s getting harder to convince himself that he likes this solitary existence. 

_

Her laugh echoes through the Great Hall and lands softly on his ears, causing goosebumps to raise at the back of his neck. Draco stares down into his mug of coffee and fights the urge to look up. Somebody nudges his shoulder, pushing in his space to tell him some asinine anecdote. He gives them a noncommittal response and feels his stomach drop when the tinkling laugh once again cuts through the fog in his mind. He can’t help it-this time, he looks over to the Gryffindor table. As he expected, no pair of eyes find his own from across the room. They never do in public. He stirs his coffee in silence.

_

A piece of parchment floats delicately down into his lap. He looks up just in time to see her figure rush past the end of the library stack in which he’s currently residing. His fingers open the message carefully. The words are written in a small, neat, cursive. 

_ Divination tower. Around 10pm x _

It’s such a strange feeling, to be simultaneously excited and disappointed. 

_

_ They want to see us apart _

His fingers catch on her curls as they bury into the hair at the nape of her neck. A desperate clawing-always wanting more. His flushed lips leave hers for a brief moment and he sighs into the soft space below her jawline.  _ Are you feeling what I’m feeling?  _

“I was thinking about going to Hogsmeade this weekend.” His tone is as casual as he can make it.

“You should. The weather is supposed to be lovely.” She smiles, and it reaches all the way up to her eyes.  _ Lovely _ . 

“I meant, I was thinking of going with you. Together.” He holds his breath.

The happiness leaves her face. Her eyes cloud over. “I’ve...already told Harry and Ron I would go with them.”

“We could all go.” 

There’s an incredibly long silence. Her gaze falls to the ground as she nervously fiddles with the tassel on a throw pillow. “I don’t think it’s the right time. Yet.”

Despite his own heartache, he feels the need to reach out and comfort her. He won’t. He can’t. “I understand.” And he does, to some degree. But it doesn’t ease the pain.

_

He holds the copy of The Daily Prophet, his grip tightening on the edge of the parchment as his eyes scan down the article. Page three. A large photograph of her and Weasley, laughing together at the Three Broomsticks. She takes a long gulp from her butterbeer, and foam sticks to her upper lip as she sets the mug down. Weasley reaches out and wipes it with his thumb. She looks down with a smirk. The image loops. Over and over. Etches into his brain.The headline reads:  **_Finding Happiness after the War_ ** . 

He lets the parchment drop to the floor of his room. Dust particles rise and shimmer in the light of the sun filtering in through the window. 

Coming back to Hogwarts was the worst decision he’s ever made. 

_

For what it’s worth, she looks guilty. Maybe even remorseful.

“It was taken out of context.” She says, skipping a stone across the dark water of the lake. A tentacle emerges from the water and snatches it in mid-air. She sighs and picks up another. 

“Photographs don’t lie.” Draco stares at the moon, because it’s easier than looking at her.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t like him, not like  _ that _ , but... people expect us to be together. It’s what they want. The perfect couple. War heroes. Whatever. The wizarding community needs something frilly and positive to think about. It’s meaningless, a temporary distraction for them.” She chucks three stones at a time, and each is snatched up in a splash. Draco can sense her frustration despite the calm facade. It’s in the slight hunch of her shoulders, the way her arms cross in front of her chest. 

“What about me? Don’t you like me like  _ that _ ?” He hates how childish it sounds.

There’s a long silence, and then she crumbles in on herself with a shaking sob. Turns to him, glances up with tears pooling in her eyes before wrapping her arms around him. Her fingers dig hard into the side of his ribs, and it’s such a delicious pain. He lets her cling to him, waiting for her answer.

Always waiting.

_

_ And I, just want to feel you're there _

Somebody takes the empty seat next to him at the Slytherin table, and he almost chokes on his muffin when he notices her curly hair in his peripheral vision. 

“Do you mind if I..?” She asks quietly, and he notices her hands trembling slightly. 

Draco can feel every pair of eyes on them. They don’t matter- _nothing else matters_. He grabs her shaking hand and squeezes it before pouring some coffee into a mug. Two sugars, no cream- just the way she likes it. He slides the mug over and she takes it with a smile that reaches all the way up to her eyes. 

_

It’s later that night, and Draco is unzipping the back of her skirt. He moves painstakingly slow, pulling the thick fabric past her hips and down her legs. She smiles against his mouth, her flushed cheeks warm on his skin. Melting snow drips down from her curls, lands on his collar bones, runs down his bare chest. 

“What made you change your mind?” He asks into the shell of her ear. 

She pulls away just enough to look at him. Nobody has ever looked at him the way she is now. “I miss you when you’re not around,” she kisses his cheek, “and I think of you all day,” her hands rest on his hips, gently tugging him forward, “I’m so sick of pretending,” their bodies are pressed flush together, skin on fire. “I want you. All the time. Every day. I don’t care anymore.”

Draco is so happy he could scream.

_

Things are good for a week or so. And then they’re not. 

Three days pass without seeing her. He sends her messages, but none come back. He takes to walking the corridors again. His shoes create a steady rhythm on the flagstone. The heartbeat of the castle. 

He climbs the astronomy tower and watches the stars. Wonders when things got so complicated. He thinks back on the first time they had seen each other after the battle at the school. She had met him at a Muggle bar one summer night. His personal invitation-the location had been chosen to prove a point, but he was also still wary of being seen out in public in the wizarding world. He was hated and he knew it. Was humiliated, and for good reason. But still, she had come. He was surprised, but he shouldn't have been, because Hermione Granger had always been different than most. A little more mature, a little more understanding. 

They had each drank a full pint before speaking a word. She was the first.  _ “I’m guessing you’ve invited me here to apologize?” _

_ “Attempt to, yes.”  _ He had answered. It was so much more than that.

She was understandably hostile towards him at first, but her trust was won over the course of a few months. They grew together, healed together. It was so natural, so exciting. 

She was the one to convince him to return to Hogwarts for his 8th year. She promised that they could do it together. 

But where was she now?

Draco sighs into the void of the stars. 

_

_ And I, just want to feel you're there _

She’s at breakfast. She looks miserable. Potter and Weasley have her sandwiched between them, looking so, so smug. The redhead even has the audacity to look up at Draco for a moment. Winks. Before, Draco would have exploded, ran his mouth at him, threatened him with the worst things he could think of. Now, he just feels numb. The dynamic duo leaves The Great Hall a short while after, leaving her behind for a few moments. 

A piece of parchment floats over to him as she gets up to leave. It lands in his lap. 

_ I miss you. _

He flips over the paper, scrawls a quick message on the back and sends it flying over to her before she’s out of the room. He watches her catch it, read the words. Her shoulders tremble, and then she’s gone.

_ I’m right here.  _

_

She finally comes to him a few days later, finding him in an armchair tucked away in a far corner of the library. It’s his favorite spot, right next to a window overlooking the quidditch pitch. The Ravenclaw team is out practicing today. The two of them sit silently for a while, watching the team fly around in the distance. 

“I’m going home for Holiday break,” she says shortly. ‘Home’ implies wherever Potter and Weasley will be. “I thought you should know.”

Draco can’t look at her. “That’s all you have to say to me?”

“I need some time to think about things.” 

“Hermione, what happened?”

She’s trying to be tough, he can tell. Hiding her emotions.  _ Funny,  _ he thinks.  _ How quickly our roles have reversed.  _ “What you’d expect. Harry and Ron. Well, everyone, really. They’re taking it a lot worse than I hoped. It’s...harder to deal with than I thought it would be.” A crocodile tear forms at the edge of her eye. Her lips tremble. “These are my friends. My  _ family.  _ They feel betrayed, Draco. I have to figure out a way to make it right, a way to make them understand. I owe it to them. They’ve shown me unconditional love and acceptance all these years. I can’t throw that away.”

He knows. He didn’t used to get it-the kind of friendship that you would sacrifice yourself for used to be a foreign concept to him. Hermione has taught him a lot of things. 

He chooses his words carefully, because communicating with her any other way would be a waste. He needs to get it right, every time. “Just remember that I love you like that, too. Unconditionally.” 

The tear finally falls, cutting down her cheek slowly. Draco reaches out to wipe it, his thumb grazing the plane of her face. She leans in and lets her head fall to his shoulder as her body shakes with quiet sobs. 

_ And I don't want to have to share our love _

_ I try, but I get overwhelmed _

_

Holiday break without her is lonely. Unbearably lonely. The only saving grace is that by now, he’s used to it.

_

Somebody must have blabbed to the press. By the time all the students return to the castle, everyone knows. Students, professors, the entire wizarding world. Draco has received 5 death threats already. Numerous howlers. The professors, despite their best efforts at being professionally neutral, watch him with disdain. 

He feels guilt. Regrets even getting involved with her. Who was he to put this stain on her? His selfishness has ruined her reputation, possibly forever. He’s a corrupter. 

Hermione is there, but not. She watches him in the great hall, will speak to him in class, but no more. It’s almost worse than nothing. Almost.

He’ll give her time.

_

It’s the middle of the night. They bump into each other by chance, meeting in the middle of the shadowy spiral staircase leading up to the Divination tower. Hermione ascending, Draco descending. She looks relieved to see him.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she breathes, sounding panicked. He reaches for her out of instinct, bringing her body against his softly. She melts into him. “Every night I’ve come out, looked for you in every corridor.” He feels her breathe in deeply at the nape of his neck, and it sends shivers down his spine. She sighs on the exhale. “Please stay with me tonight.”

Her body feels so familiar in his arms. How can he say no? They climb back up the staircase together, fingers clasped tight. 

_

They’re back to their previous routine. Lovers by night, strangers by day. Draco hasn’t fully slept in weeks. 

Something has changed in Hermione, but he can’t tell what. It could be good, or it could be very, very bad. It’s always hard to tell with her.

“Will you go to the orchestra with me?” She asks, looking up at him from where her head is propped up against his bare torso. 

“Magic or muggle?” his fingers trace her collarbones. 

“Muggle. It’s one of my favorite things. Have you ever been?” She immediately regrets the question. “No, of course not...I’m sorry.”  _ Sorry you used to be a bigoted, intolerant, evil person. _

“I’ve been to a magical orchestra. Many times. I used to absolutely hate them. Sitting quietly for hours around a bunch of insufferable adults, it was a complete nightmare.” He feels her tense beneath him. He smirks and shifts underneath her head, scooping her up and bringing her face in close to his. “But I would love to go to the orchestra with  _ you _ , Hermione. Any time spent with you is a dream.” She rolls her eyes at his heavy handed romanticism. He says it jokingly, but they both know he means it. Deep down.

“It would be perfect. An easy place to blend in, away from everyone.” Her eyes sparkle. 

Draco feels the dull ache grow in the pit of his stomach. Their forbidden, hidden love. “Will it always be like this?”

Hermione fixes him with a steady gaze. His face is reflected in her pupils. He can see the hurt in his own eyes. 

“I hope not,” she answers softly.

_

They’re blinded by a bright flash. Draco detaches his mouth from hers and looks up to see Peeves floating above them in the corridor. He’s holding a camera. 

“Caught you two in  _ quite  _ the compromising position, haven’t I?” His shrill voice echoes across the flagstone. He cackles maliciously for a few moments before floating away.

Hermione turns to Draco with a stunned expression. “Where in the hell would he have gotten a camera?”

Draco pauses for a beat while the realization hits both of them. 

“Rita.” They say in unison.

_

It takes less than 24 for the picture to show up on the front page of The Daily Prophet. Draco has to admit, it’s shockingly salacious. The two of them together in a dark alcove. Hermione is on top of him, straddling his lap, with her back to the camera. Draco’s hands clutch at her waist while their mouths move together. When the flash goes off, their guilty faces turn to the camera. Deer in headlights. You can even see the blush form on Hermione’s cheeks.

_

_ They're hating _

_ They're waiting _

_ And hoping _

_ I'm not enough _

Weasley corners him after Potions, crowding him against a dark wall outside of the dungeons. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He hisses.

Draco looks down his nose at him. Feels his gaze turn icy without even trying. “I’d suggest staying out of business that isn’t yours, Weasley.”

“Hermione  _ is  _ my business.” His breath smells of firewhiskey. 

“Funny, she’s never said that. Doesn’t really talk about you much at all, if I’m being honest.” 

Weasley’s fist collides with Draco’s jaw. It’s a slow, drunken punch, but it gets the job done. Draco leans against the cold stone wall, holding his face at the point of impact. He glances up at the redhead, who is breathing heavily with a crazed look in his eyes. Draco stifles a laugh.

“One thing I’ve noticed this year,” he says while rubbing his jaw, “is that the better of a person I become, the  _ worse  _ you lot seem to get.” 

The other boy moves towards him again, fist clenched. At that moment, a student rounds the corner and walks by them. Weasley moves away, placated for the moment by the intrusion. Draco takes his opportunity to leave before anything worse happens. He has some restraint, but not very much. “If you see Hermione,” he says over his shoulder, “tell her I’m looking for her.”

_

She grows cold

He can’t blame her. 

He knows what it’s like.

To have everyone against you. 

_

“Maybe,” she says slowly, sitting across from him in the darkness of the Divination tower, “when we’re done with school...maybe it will be easier.”

His hands ache to touch her. To cup her face, to tangle in her hair, to bring her chest in to his and feel her beating heart. Anything. Anything.

_

_ And didn't I do it for you? _

_ Why don't I do it for you? _

_ Why won't you do it for me? _

_ When all I do is for you? _

  
  


Hermione Granger becomes a stranger. 

Draco Malfoy becomes a phantom. A shadow that moves amongst the castle. 

Perhaps their day will come. 

Until then,

desolation.

_ All wrapped in cellophane, the feelings that we had _

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and feedback are always appreciated. <3 <3


End file.
